oncentrated hate of years, and indignation at being taunted with her
blighted love, finding vent in the stinging answer. It silenced Bubby's
bark and Petrovitsch's laughter. Both had a salutary fear of the old
woman from that time forth.

Lenz was asleep, and Annele in the room with the children, who after
all had not been able to keep awake. She would have thrown her arms
about old Franzl's neck, if the presence of Pilgrim and Petrovitsch had
not restrained her.

"See, here are our children," she said. "Give them just one kiss; it
will not wake them."

She insisted on Franzl staying in the parlor while she went into the
kitchen to cook her supper. Surprise at the change that had come over
her former mistress kept the old woman sitting for a while in the chair
where she had been placed, but she presently followed into the kitchen.

"Oh how good it is to be able to light a fire!" said Annele. Franzl
looked at her in amazement, not understanding that Annele was grateful
now for everything, all the thousand little blessings that the rest of
us take as a matter of course.

"What do you say to my white hair?" asked Annele.

"I wish I could give you mine; there is not a white hair on my head,
and never will be. My mother used to tell me that I was born into the
world with a full crop of hair."

Annele said, with a smile, that her white hair was sent her as a sign
that she had been in the shadow of death and must now live at peace
with all the world.

"You will forgive me too, Franzl, will you not? I thought of you in
that hour of death."

Franzl could only answer with her tears.

The change in Annele was indeed wonderful. The first time she heard the
bells ring she took the baby in her arms, and said, as she folded its
little hands together, "O child! I never thought to hear that sound
again"; and when Franzl brought the first bucket of water, she
exclaimed, "Oh, how clear and beautiful the water is! I thank God for
giving it to us!"

Long after the memory of this time of terror had faded from the minds
of her two companions in danger, the thought of it was still vivid, to
Annele, making her gentle and tender, sensitive to every hasty word.
Franzl could not help saying to Pilgrim sometimes, that she feared
Annele would not live long, there was something so almost heavenly
about her.

The burial and deliverance of Lenz's household quite cast into the
shade another event, which otherwise would have given rise to